


Colors

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, aka letters steve wrote to bucky after WS, post winter soldier, somebody buy scott a clue, steve and bucky on the run, ties in with my 'I am folded and unfolded...I am ready I am fine' fic, yes the subtext is correct steve crushed on sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4593237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bucky sits on his couch the black leather turns into a sea of inky darkness around him but he - he is a buoy amongst frantic navy blue waves (the color of his peacoat when he fell through the clouds and took Steve's whole world with him).</p><p>His hair - warm chocolate in the Summer sun</p><p>His eyes - cornflower blue when he's happy</p><p>His lips - a rosy cupids bow (Steve had spent hours staring at those lips when they were younger)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colors

Muted browns, industrial silver, military taupe, cotton candy pink, red brick and eggshell white - these are the colors Steve remembers. When flashbacks keep him awake at night they're blurry shades of all of them at once.

The others mention a gone era in passing and he can see it in their eyes - it's charcoal black and stark white. It's a world that they'll never experience - he mourns.

For the first two weeks he hides out in a local gym (the only thing that feels like home because Bucky used to train him there even as he protested) and pummels punching bags and is careful to wrap up his hands - _('You gotta wrap up your hands Steve or you'll end up with busted knuckles')._ Fury implies that hes having trouble sleeping and he has no idea what it's like to march into battle and watch your best friend die over and over - every night without fail. It's a relief when he brings a mission - it gives Steve a purpose because lately hes been wondering if staying alive is worth the trouble. The mission goes terribly wrong and they nearly lose Tony (Howard would be furious) and it's war all over again with grass painted in shades of blood red and gunpowder black. The thought of someone pulling bloodied dog tags off of a lifeless body is enough to make him feel sick - it does not happen. Tony survives and Steve wonders how many people hes going to have to lose in his lifetime. This ragtag group of oddly matched people are his family - he will put his life on the line for any one of them.

Two years pass in earthy greens, dull blue skies and on the really bad days - storm clouds. For the first time since he came out of the ice he watches snow flakes melt on the ground outside of his apartment - they bring no joy. He allows himself to fall apart. Natasha worries - she tries to get him out in the world again. He goes on two dates and they both call him a gentleman and both evenings end with a polite peck on the lips and even that feels too forward. He doesn't have the energy to keep up the charade so he begins to make excuses and he gets pretty good at them. If he repeats them enough maybe the words won't sound hollow - as it is they sound like the ballad of a broken man who can't walk away from the past - his entire life is an exercise in trudging through knee deep mud and trying not to sink. Some days he would like to sink to the bottom and stay there. He does not. He smiles and puts on a front - it's getting easier by the day.

On the day that he happens upon one Sam Wilson the sky  bursts with baby blues and puffy white clouds - the grass is greener than he has remembered it ever being. It's almost as if someone walked into his darkness and lit a candle. He smiles and this time he means it. Maybe Sam will be his salvation. 

 

Bucky is alive - the world blends into smears of deep gray mixed with streaks of charcoal black but in the midst of it all there is the smallest glint of color - bright red on Bucky's arm. He memorizes it and clings to it for dear life. Three weeks later he has a breakdown - Sam is there to talk him down and remind him that this is not the ending of Bucky's story - it is only the beginning and there's just enough time to make space for himself. 

 

For two years the world moves along in faded hues. Sam is a beacon of light in an ocean of black and gray. He wonders how Sam sees the world - did it dim around the edges when Riley hit the ground? He does not ask.  

They search every nook and cranny - follow ghostly leads and predictably they amount to nothing. On those days Zola's words echo back at him...his life and death amount to the same...zilch. He hears Bucky's voice in the back of his mind - a stern tone reprehending him for ever entertaining such a thought. He wonders if hes losing his mind. It would not be the first time. 

 

In the end Bucky finds _him._ He's bleeding from a gash on his leg, long tousled brown hair sticks to his forehead, his clothes are tatteredand shoes scuffed. Had he been the Bucky Steve remembered he would've fussed over the damage to his shoes. Back then they could barely afford to eat - buying shoes was a luxury and so they had to last. Steve had only returned to his apartment to collect a backpack of clothing and his compass - he took it everywhere. He had not expected to see the one person in the world that made all the colors explode into light - a shining crimson star amidst dull tints. 

When Bucky sits on his couch the black leather turns into a sea of inky darkness around him but he - _he_ is a buoy amongst frantic navy blue waves (the color of his peacoat when he fell through the clouds and took Steve's whole world with him).

His hair - warm chocolate in the Summer sun

His eyes - cornflower blue when he's happy

His lips - a rosy cupids bow (Steve had spent hours staring at those lips when they were younger)

For a long moment they drink one another in and Steve hopes that Bucky sees him in vibrant pigments. Did the world suddenly come into view when he first saw him? It did for Steve. Bucky is a dark angel that has haunted his every waking (and sleeping for that matter) second - if only he knew that. All around them the world spins on but for Steve it tilts and orbits around one man.

 

"Your moms name is Sarah," Bucky speaks in near whispers as if he might be scolded for uttering anything at all. It makes Steve's chest ache.

He cannot speak - he nods instead and makes no move to hide the raw emotion in his eyes. How long has he waited for this?

"You used to put newspaper in your shoes," Bucky smirks and it makes Steve's heart skip a beat. He remembers - a small apartment in Brooklyn with a chorus of car horns and intermittent yelling outside of the window - putting his shoes beside of Bucky's in the morning sun - how he'd tried not to think about how the simple things made his pulse flutter and speed up.

"Used to tease me about my stinky shoes," Steve laughs and it feels real - not forced. To anyone else the snarky comments about Steve's worn and smelly shoes (the cheapest pair his ma could afford) would've seemed offensive but not to Steve - they'd teased one another mercilessly and it never once felt mean.

Bucky shakes his head and there's a grin on his face when he looks at Steve.

"Yeah and I bet they're still rank," he teases.

Steve can't contain the wide grin that reaches all the way to his eyes. Bucky is flesh and blood - muscle and bone and _alive._ If he were to die right now he'd die a happy man.

"Better than yours, used to run the birds right off of the pavement - all the newspaper in the world couldn't get rid of that stink."  It feels natural - like closing his eyes and being enveloped by muted browns, industrial silver, eggwhite - Bucky. Home.

" 'member how I told you not to do anything stupid? And you didn't listen?," Bucky shoots a stern look at Steve who turns pink and has the decency to look guilty.

"Had to find your sorry butt," he replies. That's only half true. It isn't kosher to tell your back from the dead other half that 'by the way I wanted to stay dead' and 'all I saw since coming out of the ice were black and gray prisms - no light'. No - that will not do.

Bucky winces and frowns and oh god Steve shouldn't have said anything. He silently chastises himself for ruining a perfectly good moment.

"I didn't know who I was Steve," Bucky sighs and crosses his arms across his chest. No this was not going well at all.

Steve nods because he doesn't trust his voice not to falter when he speaks.

"Do you know who you are now?," a gentle question carefully phrased.

"Sorta. I mean I remember you...I remember Brooklyn and Dum Dum and your ma shushing us when we had a sleep over."  There is much that he recalls - too much and not enough.

"Couch cushions," Steve replies. This makes Bucky smile - pink lips parted to reveal pristine white teeth. He's remembering.

"Sorry about your ma." The happiness fades - replaced by guilt. Guilt for forgetting her death - for not trying hard enough to hold onto the memories.

" 'sokay," Steve slumps against his chair. Even after all this time it hurts.

"Promised her I'd keep you outta trouble and well...," Bucky trails off.

It is not his fault - Steve wants to repeat it until his voice is hoarse.

"Since when have I ever been able to walk away from trouble?" Humor is good - _please please smile again_.

"Always had to follow you around draggin' you outta alleys and patching up your knuckles and face - mostly your face," Bucky's eyes glaze over as if hes not only recalling but drifting back in time. Life had not been easy back then but they had one another - that was what mattered - still did. Let the world combust into flames around them - he wouldn't resist if Bucky was with him.

"I had a mean right swing though," Steve defends.

Bucky lifts an eyebrow at him as if to say 'we both know that's a lie'.

"Now come on - that's not true," he argues back despite Bucky having said nothing at all. They still excelled at non verbal communication - it made Steve deliriously happy.

"You packed a good punch I'll give you that much," Bucky retorts.

"Taught Billy Jones a lesson didn't I? He didn't call you names anymore," Steve is proud of that. Billy had insulted Bucky and Steve had went all in with both fists balled up and ready. One broken nose (his own of course), bruised knuckles, a split lip and a lecture from his ma later and Steve finally spilled the beans about what caused the fight. Bucky's eyes had softened and he'd wrapped a hand around Steve's neck and held it there without speaking. He did not have to say thank you or 'I never realized how important I was to you'. It was unspoken - always had been.

"You sure did," Bucky agrees and that handsome lopsided grin is back.

"Buck? Are you staying?," Steve ducks his head to hide the pain in his eyes. Bucky would leave and Steve would fall apart at the seams. It would be like losing him all over again only this time it will be Bucky's choice.

Bucky pulls a solemn face and Steve wants nothing more than to kiss it away because hes looking at him like a wounded animal and it isn't right - it isn't fair.

"I can't. They're looking for me and I don't want to lead them back to you."

"Who?," Steve would take every last one of them down. They hadn't survived this long just to be ripped apart again.

"That's kinda tricky...you know them and they know you,"  Bucky sighs and his whole body seems to deflate.

"Give me names," Steve demands. _I'll hunt them down one by one and they'll regret the day they ever messed with my things. Things...Bucky is not a thing but damn if he hasn't belonged to Steve since he'd saved him from bullies all those decades ago. It goes both ways._

"Steve I don't wanna cause trouble," Bucky protests and stiffens.

"Buck you know if you don't tell me who they are I'll find out myself," Steve shoots back. His skin is nearly vibrating with anger.

"Files - I got files."  Bucky pulls multiple files (dented and worn) out of his backpack and places them one by one on a nearby table.

Familiar faces stare back at Steve and his heart sinks. Those people were his family - they'd gave him a purpose and a reason for surviving. Why them?

Steve grits his teeth and doesn't bother with picking up the files.

"Why are they after you?"

Bucky drops his backpack to the floor and slides down against the wall. "They wanna lock me up."

Steve wants to hit something hard enough to break - they will never take him. Not while Steve is still living. He'll defend Bucky until his dying breath. He says nothing as he stands and his hands curl into fists. Dangerous - he looks dangerous.

"I can do this on my own. I won't kill anyone," Bucky scoops the files up and returns them to his bag with a loud zipping noise as it draws closed.

"You don't have to do it alone," Steve says. It feels like a thousand years have passed since the same words fell off of Bucky's lips and Steve had fallen even harder.

Bucky's eyes flash with recognition - catches baby blue eyes with his own. They will do this together or not at all.

 

They cram backpacks full of crackers, peanut butter, water bottles, guns, ammunition, Bucky's knives, every dollar that Steve had saved, running shoes, baseball caps and heavy jackets. They will start over in a place that doesn't see Bucky as a potential threat that must be eliminated immediately. Steve leaves a living room light on just in case he has a visitor - they'll assume he's moping or asleep. It will hold for a couple of days - long enough for them to escape.

 

"Never been to West Virginia before," Bucky peers out of the vehicle window (a rented one under false names - Steve Buchanan - Bucky's idea) as trees pass in a blur.

"There's a first time for everything," Steve glances at him and squeezes his leg. It feels familiar - like he was never gone at all. He wants to trace his fingers over every inch until it's all he sees when he closes his eyes - it's too soon for that, he decides.

"A toy museum, Steve?" Bucky asks as Steve pulls into a crowded parking lot.

"Why not?," Steve replies with a shrug. They could use a little happiness.

They don matching baseball caps ('Really Steve? Why do you even have five of the same hat in the same color?') and slide past unfamiliar faces.

"Hey it's Pop-Eye!," Bucky shrieks with excitement as he stands in front of an Olive Oyl and Pop-Eye toy collection. His eyes are sparkling - cornflower blue.

Steve grins and puts a hand at the small of Bucky's back - an old habit that never went away. Bucky leans into the touch and Steve pretends for a moment that they're any ordinary couple who are on the roadtrip of the century - that they're not wanted men.

"That's a whole lotta red," Bucky remarks as they stand in front of a 1950s replica. Black and white checkered floors, red and white booths, Coca Cola in glass bottles and what appeared to be a juke box in the corner. Families crowd together in booths and small black tables - wide grins and giggles. They had missed an incredible era it seemed.

"Woulda been nice to have gotten to see that when it was new," Steve sighs - the past is forever at his back reminding him of all the things they'd lost along the way.

At his side Bucky nods and stares at the ground.

He knew all about how Steve had died following his own survival - remembered how they taunted him after the fact 'Your precious Steve is dead. No chance to be a hero this time'. His stomach rolled at the thought and he fought to keep his calm. Steve noticed - of course he did.

"Hey...lets get outta here okay?"  He placed a warm hand on Bucky's arm - let it linger even as they walked out of the doors, only releasing when they had to get in the car.

There was no set plan - no plan at all aside from run as far away as they can get.

 

Mid-way through another state they made a stop at a hotel - Bucky's idea that Steve had protested against ('Steve if you keep this up you'll pass out behind the wheel'). This time under the name James Rogers. Steve decided that it had a nice ring to it.

Bucky turned on the television as Steve took a shower - the screen flashed with their pictures and the words "RED ALERT" followed by footage of destruction in various places of the world and the question that made him want to punch something - hard. "Super hero registeration act - should past crimes be held against them?" "The law was passed last night with a vote of 10-50. Superheros, vigilantes and villains alike will now be required to register with the UN as well as the United States government. Should they not comply they _will_ be facing prison time." He hurled the remote at the wall so hard that it caused an indent.

Steve came whirling out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips and wide eyes.

"What the hell, Bucky? Are you okay?" concern laced with surprise and a hint of fear - fear that Bucky would slip through his fingers once more. 

"I'm fine, go back to your shower," Bucky replied grittily. 

"Don't give me that crap Bucky. You're not fine," Steve unearthed the tv remote from its resting place in the wall and shot him a look. 

"You need to go back home," Bucky clamped his jaw hard enough to break. Steve would be safer without him - he could return and register himself. They would leave him alone. 

"We're not doing this again," Steve growled. 

"If they catch us they  _will_ lock you up Steve, this isn't a game," he chided. The idea of anyone putting Steve in a prison made his fingers itch for his knife. 

"That's why we're not gonna get caught," Steve raised his eyebrows and gave him a stubborn look.

Bucky groaned and fell back on the bed - covered his eyes with his arm and tried to even his breaths. In between the news and Steve standing there in nothing more than a measly hotel sized towel his pulse was racing. Good god didn't the man know how to keep clothes on his back?

He emerged from the bathroom some ten minutes later in a sleeveless white shirt and shorts that hung low on his hips. Torture - this was torture.

"Your turn," Steve laid down beside of him on the bed and poked him in the ribs. Bucky could really use a cold shower right about now. He shot up from the bed as quickly as he could and closed the bathroom door behind him, leaving Steve to wonder why he was so eager to get away. 

When he came out Steve was splayed out like a starfish ('We can't afford two beds Buck') on the bed - dark eyelashes fanned against pale skin and a patch of hair where his shirt rode up. Hell - Bucky had descended into hell. It had to be payback for all the awful things he'd done in his past.

"Scoot over," he whispered and it wasn't necessary for him to lean close and nearly put his lips against Steve's ear - not necessary at all.

"Bucky," Steve slurred in his sleep as an arm groped the bed until he located a warm leg - the same leg that was wearing nothing more than solid black briefs ('We can't pack all of this Buck, you'll just have to make do'). Bucky froze up as he stared at a strong hand on his upper thigh.

Gathering his wits about him and scolding himself for being so weak that one touch make him crave more, he gently pushed arms and legs out of the way and took his side of the bed. Steve went back to starfish position which meant that his arms and legs were pressed against Bucky's. Bucky did not sleep that night. He woke up to sleepy blue eyes peering at him from the side of the bed where Steve was knelling - he'd already dressed for the day in a rusty red three quarter length shirt with buttons that were only for show, dark blue jeans, a baseball cap and running shoes. He looked like sunshine. 

"You snore when you sleep," Steve teased. 

"Says the person who hogs the bed," Bucky said with a yawn and a stretch that made the covers slip off. He didn't miss the way Steve's gaze traveled up his body. He told himself that he needed more sleep because he was imagining things again. Steve cleared his throat and made a beeline for the door as he mumbled about getting on the road early - staying one step ahead of anyone who might be tracking them. They rented another vehicle under the name of Roger S'even ('Just take out the T, Steve')

 

"Steve? What are these?," Bucky held a pile of [letters](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4541274) in his hand - each neatly folded and tied with string. They were on their way to Iowa of all places because Steve insisted that they'd be safe there - that they could easily blend in. The sun was going down and it painted a mural of soft pinks and oranges in the sky and until Bucky had spoke Steve was thinking to himself that he could get used to this - Bucky at his side and rainbows of color at every turn.

He glanced over at the stack and swerved sharply to the right. They were letters he'd written to Bucky when he was gone - every one of them tear stained and raw. They were too personal for anyone other than himself to see so he'd stuffed them into his pack right before they left Washington DC behind. He'd forgotten about them until now. Bucky had been rummaging in Steve's backpack for snacks. He carefully unfolded a letter from the middle of the pile and read:

_Bucky,_

_I've taken up sketching again. Today I sketched our old apartment with its dusty corners, bathtub in the kitchen and you stretched out on the bed. We had to share one back then and I only complained about your cold feet because I figured it would be a good distraction from wanting to roll over and kiss you until you saw stars. Don't even act surprised - you knew it all along. It's why you set me up with that blonde who spent most of the time clutching her friends hand instead of mine. It was our date. It's too bad it took me over a decade to realize that. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for so many things_.

Steve struggled to keep his eyes on the road and wondered which one he held in his hands.

"Come'on Buck, put those away okay?," he nudged Bucky's knee and attempted to nab the paper but it didn't do any good as Bucky leaned away from him and re-read each word.

 _Kiss you until you saw stars..._ Bucky's hands were shaking as he read the line once, twice, three times. He _had_ known it all along but Jesus Christ he'd convinced himself that he was imagining things that weren't there - told himself that Steve only gave him the look that made him weak in the knees because he didn't realize what he was doing.

He tore his eyes away from the paper and unfolded another as Steve groaned. "Buuuuuckkkkkkyyyyy stop this." 

_Bucky,_

_I know you don't remember this but I need you to. Fall of '38 with all the leaves littering the ground - you with an arm thrown over my shoulder as we took in a film and went back to your house. Your house had cozy pastel walls in the kitchen, always smelled like fresh pie, newspaper was tacked to living room walls and your ma always had a peanut butter sandwich for me. We went to your room (you always complained that it was too small and would it kill someone to have put a window in there?) and lay side by side on the bed as you waxed poetic about the latest scientific discovery (honestly I wasn't listening - I was too busy trying not to stare at your lips) and I gave in. I intended on a simple peck to the lips but you rolled us until I was pressed into the mattress and for as long as I live I'll never forget how your tongue felt against mine. It was heaven and hell at the same time. The next day I told you I only did it so you'd stop blabbering on - I lied. You bought it. I wish I hadn't._

Bucky remembered that day with perfect clarity. It had been one of the first to resurface and he'd played it over and over in his head nearly every night before he came back. Warm skin against his own - soap and pencil shavings, the squeaking of the mattress under them, Steve's leg tangled up with his own - a boney knee between his legs, the taste of Steve's mouth - oh he'd fell hard and fast. He  _had_ bought Steve's excuse despite the guilt of a lie written all over his face because Steve needed to think that he bought it. Every time they were near one another from that point on Bucky struggled to not look at those lips - the lips that kept him awake at night.  God - he had no idea that Steve felt like that even now. The letters weren't more than a couple years old.

"There's a rest stop coming up. I need to pee," Bucky folded the letters back up and tied them. He'd get to the rest later.

 

The rest stop was empty and the night sky was a blanket of stars - the universe mapped out for them.

"You want anything Buck? I'm gonna get some crackers from the-," Steve was cut off by Bucky blocking his path. "I get it - you're not hungry now scoot." Bucky didn't budge and the way he was gazing at Steve was enough to make him blush from head to toe.

"I never bought that lie about you kissin' me so I'd stop talking," Bucky whispered and he was standing close enough that Steve was drawing in shaky breaths - small puffs of air and he was going to pass out if he kept this up.

Bucky's eyes darted to Steve's lips and he instinctively licked them. "Wizard of Oz...we saw the Wizard of Oz."

"I never wanted anything so bad in my life Steve...I think I saw fireworks when you kissed me," Bucky reached out a hand hesitantly and cupped Steve's cheek.

Steve leaned into the touch and to hell with the consequences he was tired of playing it safe. He dived right in - dragging Bucky's lips to his own as if his life depended on it and it did - Bucky _was_ his life.

Bucky parted his lips and Steve slid a tongue inside - he was careening over a waterfall - dazzling white water joining with misty blue like Bucky's eyes when he smiled and _oh_ he could get used to this.

"Steve," Bucky murmured against his lips - a confirmation, a reminder, a vow, every dream he'd ever had.

 

"You're too easy to track," came a masculine voice from behind them. Tony wasn't happy - not in the least. He wore his suit and had apparently been waiting for them to stop for a rest.

Steve pushed Bucky behind him and wished like hell that he had his shield. It was buried under bags of clothes in the back of the vehicle.

"You don't have to do this," Steve stated.

"Kinda have to," Tony snarked.

"I don't want to hurt you," Steve replied as he grabbed Bucky's wrist firmly and held on. After all they'd been through he still expected him to bolt.

"Then give me Bucky."

"That's how its gonna be then?," Steve growled as he closed in on Tony's personal space with Bucky watching the two of them.

"You gonna teach me a lesson old man?," Tony glared.

"Keys," Steve demanded as he held out a hand to Bucky.

"It's okay Steve really...," he began.

"KEYS."  He reluctantly handed them over - this wasn't going to end well.

 

Steve unearthed his shield as Tony pulled the armor over his face. Bucky wasn't about to stand by and watch as he hurt Steve - not now, not ever. The three of them gave it all they had - metal arm against iron, iron wielding weapons that were dodged with a shield and bounced off of Bucky's arm. In a single breath Bucky's world flipped upside down - Steve was badly injured - he would need time to recover. Tony came to the same conclusion and put away his weapons - made an ultimatum.

"I leave with Bucky and call you an ambulance or we all stay here and finish what we started."

Steve moved to take up the latter option but Bucky stopped him with a metal hand to his chest.

"I promised your ma I'd keep you safe. Can't break that promise can I?," he stared into baby blue eyes that filled up with tears. _I don't wanna go, I'd rather chew my own arm off than leave you but it's for the best._

Steve nodded solemnly and grabbed Bucky's hand - held on as tight as he could. "I'm coming back for you, I swear it," he murmured with a final squeeze.

With that Bucky turned and didn't look back - if he did he'd never be able to walk away.

 

"Man you can't be running off like that. You should've taken me with you, you know I'm good for that," Sam sat beside of Steve's hospital bed and gave him a look. It had been two days and it might as well be two years. Sam hadn't moved from his side and it seemed like there were only two people left in his life that he could trust.

"You don't run fast enough," Steve said with a grin.

"Is that how it is?," Sam leaned forward in his chair with a teasing smile and raised eyebrows. He'd missed this.

"That's how it is."

"There's a song by Marvin Gaye that you just have to hear," Sam said loudly as he picked up his phone and typed in a message - held it up to Steve's face.

 _I know where they're keeping him,_ it read.

Steve's heart pounded in his chest - Bucky.

_We're going to do this together._

Steve nodded, "Trouble man? I've already listened to that one."

_Night shift comes in ten minutes - be ready to jet._

"Nah but there's an entire album. Not only that song," Sam played along.

"I'll have to check it out when I get the time," Steve continued.

They spent ten minutes (that seemed to drag on and on) debating modern music vs the music Steve grew up with as Sam kept a watchful eye on the clock.

"NOW," Sam threw Steve's clothes and shoes at him as he pulled them on as fast as he could. Sam had thought ahead and brought a black jacket and baseball cap to match - sunglasses in the pocket. 

They kept their heads down as they picked up the pace ('Walk, don't run') and escaped to the night air. 

"Hurry!," Sam jumped into his vehicle and it roared to life as Steve got in the other side. Fifteen minutes later they were parked in front of Tony's building as they strategized a plan. Sam would sneak into the containment area and release Bucky while Steve had orders to take down anyone in their path. It was foolproof.

It went off without a hitch despite the racket they'd stirred up.

 

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you? If they so much as laid a finger on you...," Steve sat in the back seat beside of Bucky and ran his hands over Bucky's face - eyes darting everywhere his fingers touched for injuries.

"Steve, _Steve_ I'm alright. They put me in some kind of space age prison with no windows but I didn't die or nothin'," he took Steve's hand in his own and intertwined their fingers as he spoke.

"We can't do this alone," Sam interjected. 

"We have to - there's no one we can trust," Steve sighed and slouched against Bucky who pulled him to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shoulders protectively. 

"I know a guy," Sam pulled onto the interstate and kept a watchful eye out for anyone who appeared suspicious. 

 

"Cap needs your help," Sam stood in front of Scott's house as Bucky and Steve waited in the vehicle. 

"Cap as in Captain America?? As in Steve Rogers - THE Captain America?," Scott asked excitedly. 

"Reel it in, Scott. This is important. If you're willing to help I need you to follow us."

Scott glanced at the vehicle. "Us?" 

"The three of us," Sam clarified. 

Scott wasn't getting it. 

"We have Bucky. Tony tried to lock him up." 

Scott's eyes got bigger as he made sense of it all - Captain America needed HIS help. 

"Um...'course I can help I mean it's Captain America - I'll just...I'm gonna call a babysitter." 

Fifteen minutes later he slid into the front seat beside of Sam and stared with wide eyes at Steve and Bucky. Bucky wiggled his fingers in greeting and nudged Steve to make some kind of gesture. Steve nodded silently. 

They merged onto the freeway as Scott rambled on. "I've heard stories about you since I was a kid and I used to have a lunchbox with your face on it and I never thought I'd see this day." 

Bucky shook his head. The glimmer and glitz of Captain America somehow had always out shined Steve and it was a damn shame that no one (save for himself and Sam) could see them as one in the same. Steve had been doing his part long before the serum made him a national icon.

Steve interrupted him to introduce Bucky. "This is my Bucky...I mean...Bucky Barnes, my right hand man," he stammered. Scott looked at one and then then other and squinted his eyes for a minute before reaching a hand out to shake Bucky's.

"That's a strong handshake you got there!"  Bucky said nothing as he stared back and wrapped his hand around Steve's. Scott took in their intertwined hands, grinned and turned back around.

 

Somewhere between the next morning and afternoon Steve passed out with his head on Bucky's shoulder and one hand curled around his bicep. Bucky decided to seize the opportunity and finish reading the letters he'd confiscated. Luckily for them Sam had their back and went above and beyond friendship by taking the next plane out and emptying their vehicle of personal effects. His eyes picked out a certain paragraph:

_We've been given another chance - lets try not to mess this one up okay? I'm all in. It's you and me or nothing at all. I love you I love you I love you. I regret every minute that I swallowed those words and buried them - my heart is a cemetery of wilted words that never sprouted. I'm taking a bulldozer and unearthing feelings that I lost when you fell. This is gonna be okay. _We're_ gonna be okay. Christ, there's nothing at all you could ever do to make me love you less and I hope you know that._

He soaked up every beautiful word decided to pen a letter of his own. On the back of that one he wrote:

_Steve,_

_I missed you. Feels like I've been away a long long time. Hope you don't mind that I pilfered these letters, I'm only trying to find out who I am. Who I was. I'm doing my best._

Some days were better than others - he was trying to adjust - to not flinch when someone touched him, to sleep through the night without waking up screaming. It helped that he had Steve by his side. Love paled in comparison to what he felt. The english dictionary didn't have enough words to form into exactly how much he loved Steve Rogers and always had. They'd belonged to one another from that very first day and that was why (though he'd never told Steve) he couldn't keep a steady girl. His heart was already taken. He carefully folded the letter up and put it on top of the others as he propped his head up against Steve's and slept peacefully for the first time in months.

"Wow those two sure are cozy - must be really good friends," Scott peeked in the backseat at the two sleeping super soldiers. They were quite a pair - they could take down any man or beast and yet when they were together and had no place to be they simply melted into one another - two puzzle pieces falling into place.

Sam laughed, "You have no idea." Those two had never been _just friends._ Sam knew this better than anyone. Steve had confided in him and trusted him above everyone else and he hadn't broken that.

Scott had a curious expression on his face - yes there was definitely more to these two than met the eye.

 

Nothing good ever lasts - that was a painful lesson that Steve had learned early in life when he and Bucky had been separated in classes and again when Bucky had his first real kiss - with someone other than Steve that was.

It shouldn't have been a surprise when he and Sam had formed an allegiance with Wanda, Clint, Bucky and Scott followed by Tony siding with Rhodey, Natasha, Vision and the US government itself.

Blood had been spilled - a war waged against friends...family.

In the end they'd all emerged dirty and bone tired with only destruction in their wake. There was no time to focus on apologies or bigger arguments - they had to work together to take down Crossbones who was wrecking havoc all over the globe.  Once captured he'd relentlessly threw Bucky's feelings and memories in Steve's face.

"You know, he remembered you. Your pal, your buddy, your _Bucky,"_ he spat - venom in every word.

"Did he tell you what happened to him? I watched them strap him to a chair like a caged animal and send electrical zaps to his brain as he screamed out in pain but before he did...he told them he remembered you and Pierce slapped him. Oh and the best part? It wasn't the first time he'd remembered - they kept erasing you and when he wasn't needed they'd lock him up in cyro-," Brock ground out with spite in every word as he twisted the knife even further into Steve's heart. He was cut off by a swift punch to the face and Steve didn't stop until his face was bloody.

"That's enough, Stars and Stripes," Tony chided as he called in help. Brock was loaded into an armored vehicle and taken to a facility that would make damn sure that he repented for those words and the death of civilians.

 

Both sides stood ragged and exhausted - made no move to continue the fight.

"We can't take on the US government but we can file an amendment," Natasha said as she moved to stand beside of Tony. Clint eyed her suspiciously.

Steve nodded and dropped his shield at his side as Bucky, Sam, Scott, Clint and Wanda joined him.

 

Natasha gave Clint a smile and that was enough for now. "We still friends?" he asked.

"Not sure about that Barton, you did try to kill me," she teased. They didn't notice how everyone drifted away from the two of them to give them privacy.

"In all fairness you hit first."

"You know I wouldn't have if I'd had a choice," Clint wrapped an arm around her waist as her eyes fluttered closed - the softest kiss. Two of the most dangerous (not counting the others) assassins and yet they kissed delicately - as if they had all the time in the world.

 

"Why didn't you tell me what they did to you?," Steve pulled Bucky over to the side - kept a hand protectively on a metal bicep.

" 'cause you'd only blame yourself."

"Bucky if we want to get anywhere with this...," he waved a hand dramatically, "whatever this is then we can't keep secrets from one another enough _especially_ about things like that."

"It's in the past Steve, we can't go back."

"You're right - we can't but someone once gave me some good advice. She said ' _All we can do is our best, and sometimes, the best that we can do is to start over._ ' I want to start over with you for better or worse," Steve brushed his fingers against Bucky's cheek then buried his face in the crook of his neck - breathed him in. 

"Peggy, right?" Bucky kissed Steve's temple and put a hand on the back of his head. 

"How'd you know?" 

"She told me the same thing once - ran into her after you passed out at the bar - you've never been one to stay awake past midnight. I guess she knew I was struggling and that was what I needed to hear at the time. I stepped back and gave you the chance to start over and then you went and crash landed a jet into the ice." 

"Wait...what?" Steve straightened and crinkled his forehead. 

"You heard me." 

"James Buchanan Barnes I went to my death thinking you didn't love me like I loved you," he jabbed a finger in Bucky's direction for emphasis, "How could you do that to me?"

"I'm sorry. I wanted you to be happy is all," Bucky sighed and put distance between them. 

"That wasn't your decision to make."

"I saw the way she looked at you Steve and you turned into a puddle at her feet right in front of me. What was I supposed to think?," the words come out harsher than Bucky had intended but the pain was still fresh. 

Steve laughed dryly and shook his head. "She was a beautiful girl - I'm not gonna lie and I figured my chances with her were better than the slim ones with you - anyone who has ever known you knew you were all over the dames. Why not go after the first girl who looks my way? It sure wasn't gonna happen with youand it didn't help that you tried to dance with her."   

"I wanted her to leave you alone, wasn't even interested. There were girls all in that bar and I didn't give 'um a second glance. The way she looked at you...I recognized that 'cause it's how I've always looked at you but you never caught it 'cause I hid it and I'm sorry - maybe I'm a jealous asshole who doesn't deserve a second chance." 

Steve couldn't possibly be mad after that. Even back then Bucky had been in love with him and stupidly they'd both assumed it was one sided.  


"Come'ere you," he tugged Bucky to his chest and licked a path up his neck - stopped to gently bite his shoulder. 

"This is for holding out on me," Steve whispered as he traced Bucky's bottom lip with his tongue until his lips parted and Bucky's tongue found his and all the colors bloomed around them. He would find Bucky's letter some two weeks later, frame it and place it next to a recent picture of them together with Steve clinging to Bucky like a koala as Bucky grinned and leaned in for a kiss - a candid shot captured by Tony.  


 

"Are they.....?" Scott watched them with mouth gaping. 

"Best friends? Yeah," Sam laughed and clapped him on the back. 

"Now that we're finished destroying the world I'm going to find a cheeseburger. Anyone care to join me? Cap looks...preoccupied. And Clint and Natasha. Is there something in the air?  Feel like I'm missing something. Why am I always the last to know? Wanda? Sam? Truce?," Tony held out a hand to Sam. 

"Truce but only if you're payin'," he replied as he gave Tony's hand a shake. 

"Deal." 

In the months that followed they worked together to undo the damage they'd caused both physically and government wise. Still it felt like there was the threat of it all falling apart again right around the corner.  


**Author's Note:**

> what happened? this was supposed to be a short fluffy 1 chapter deal but instead turned into a massive beast. also I don't have a side when it comes to civil war - I love all of them and I think tony needs a hug and patience. if you made it through this thank you for reading <3 
> 
> the toy museum is real http://www.marxtoymuseum.com/gift_shop.html
> 
> descriptions aided by http://www.businessinsider.com/new-york-city-1940s-photos-2011-7?op=1


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